A real piece of art
by Pureblood-Slytherins
Summary: Maris X Thrawn. One of their famous secret language lessons that was not in the book.


**A real piece of art**

**A/N**: _A long time ago, I read a fanfiction called „Diglossia" somewhere on the internet. It might have been on livejournal or wattpad or , I really don't know. In my opinion it was a good Thrawn/Maris fanfiction, in which one of their language lessons got a bit more interesting. I wanted to read it again, but couldn't find it anymore. I guess the author must have deleted it, which is a real shame. Therefore, I decided to write my own version of it, as such a great story should not simply vanish. Please enjoy. :)_

**A real piece of art**

The ink was reddish-brown and made out of rare, crushed seashells that only existed underneath the heavy ice-glaciers on Csilla. According to Thrawn, Chiss saw more than one colour when they looked at it; another reason for its specialty and thus, Maris had been extra careful using it. Not that he had said she should, but somehow Maris felt privileged to use it.

Being used to light-pens, Maris had felt clumsy writing with a brush and only after a long and careful period of practice, she had known the right amount of ink and the right amount of pressure to properly write with it. Thoughtfully, she looked down at her creation, rather satisfied with herself. She flipped her brush once more over the white paper and finished the last sign.

Cheunh was truly a beautiful language. Alas, it was difficult to learn. Sometimes the signs looked far too similar and a single line could change their meaning. At times like that, she wondered if she would ever be able to read it or write even the most basic messages.

Maris chewed on her lower lip. Car'das and Dubrak had no idea Commander Thrawn was giving her additional language lessons. They would not understand and she did not want to upset Dubrak even more. Luckily, Thrawn had agreed to keep their meetings a secret.

During one of her visits to sickbay, the Commander had shown her how to write her name in Chenuh. She had been fascinated and had asked him to teach her more and to Maris' surprise he had agreed. He had so many things to worry about: Ar'alani, the Vagaari, his fleet and yet…he had said yes. Maybe because she had saved his life or maybe it was just his never-ending curiosity. But he had said yes, and that day in sickbay, he had started teaching her Chiss calligraphy.

Maris put her tiny brush back into its box, packed her bag and then walked up the corridor to Thrawn's quarters. Shyly she pressed a square button at the door.

He sat behind his desk and looked down at her writing. Then he looked back up at her, a small, approving smile on his lips.

"Good."

"I'm not sure about this." Maris skipped through her sheets and then put another one on his desk.

"Is this correct?"

Suddenly Thrawn caught her hand and pushed up her sleeve. Maris blushed, feeling like a schoolgirl caught cheating by a teacher. She looked down at the words scribbled on her palm and forearm. It was Cheunh and its translation in Aurebesh.

"Why did you do that?" Thrawn asked in Cheunh.

"It help remember," Maris answered in the same language. Or at least tried to.

Both of them were not very accomplished in the other one's language yet, but Maris had to admit that Thrawn was making much more progress than she did.

"It help_s me to_ remember." He corrected her. Slowly, quietly, like he always did, while staring at her forearm.

"Why like this? Why not use a datapad?" He asked and looked into her eyes.

"Looking up words on a datapad would slow me down." She explained quietly. "And when I see the words more often, I'm better at remembering them."

"Interesting method." His fingers glided down her forearm, over the words she had carefully written down there.

"It will be hard to remove." He said finally. "It will last for a week. Maybe longer."

"I don't mind."

He looked up from the other side of the desk. Silently, calculating. Then he rolled up his right arm's sleeve and brought it down in front of her.

"Adjectives, please."

Maris smiled at him and searched her bag for her brush set. Once she had found it, she held Thrawn's arm with her left and started writing with her right. She started at his wrist and then made her way up. "Honourable" she wrote, then "intelligent".

If she wanted to write more, she would have to change her position.

"May I come over?" She asked shyly.

"Yes."

Maris pulled her chair around Thrawn's desk and now sat next to him. His arm was still resting on the desk and she continued her work. "Patient", "observant", "polite". She pushed his sleeve farther up. "Intuitive", "strong." Finally, she put her brush aside and looked him in the eye.

"That's all I have room for."

He looked down at his forearm and then back to Maris. "I shall provide you with a bigger canvas then."

To her surprise, he took her hand and lead her to another room. Maris swallowed. A bedroom. She had expected him to get something else to write on. A datapad or an old-fashioned piece of paper, but that he would… Her thoughts trailed off when she saw him taking off his black uniform jacket.

"The Republic." He said throwing the jacket on a nearby chair. "I want to know about it". With a swift move he took off his shirt and stood bared-chested before her; the dim light of the room playing along the angles of his strong jaw and his broad shoulders.

"Come." He reached out his hand to her.

Maris sucked in her breath. *Had he any idea what he was doing?*

Truth to be told ever since she had sat foot on the _Springhawk_, she had a little crush on him and she was falling fast. Jori had noticed it too. He had even told her to be careful. Going to bed with Thrawn was the opposite of being careful. Even if they wouldn't … But in the end, she was always the nice girl that was left behind.

He seemed to sense her hesitation.

"Do you want to return?" He smiled at her and somehow it made her shy. "No."

"Good. Come here then."

He laid down on the bed and Maris kneeled beside him. She started where she had left off – on his strong arms. "7 Million star systems," she wrote. "Representative democracy", "Coruscant", "Galactic Senate". Whenever she took a note, she explained the details to him and when she was done with his arm, she clumsily leaned over his chest to write the next line there, but before she could start, he reached for her waist and pulled her on top of him. „Better"

Maris felt her heart racing. Was this a dream? Had he any idea what such positions implied? Lost in thoughts her left hand floated along his ridged stomach. This was better than her wildest dreams. Maris forced her thoughts back on the task at hand and dipped the brush into the ink once more before writing, „The Jedi are the protectors of the Republic". She leaned further down „Supreme Court of Justice ". All the time Thrawn carefully looked up at her, while she kept on writing, her little brush skilfully covering him with Aurebesh. Then their eyes locked. "Done."

Thrawn reached for her, pulled her down and then rolled them over. He was lying on top of her now. Their faces only inches apart.

„My turn."

With a quick move, he pulled her shirt over her head and then pushed her undershirt up, revealing her flat stomach. Thrawn put a pillow underneath her back to bring her lower body further up and then both of his hands stroked over the sides of her torso, before he started writing himself.

„It will be a little cold." He said before bringing the wet brush to her skin. He wrote with his right and held her in place with his left. Maris held her breath and felt small termers running through her body. He spoke in Cheunh, but even if she had been able to concentrate, Maris doubted that she would have been able to understand what he was saying. His voice was dark and velvet and every now and then she felt the wet little brush touching a new part of her skin or his breath on her stomach when he blew down on her, helping the ink to dry. Once he was done with her stomach he reached underneath her shirt and bra and pulled both of them up in one quick movement.

Maris looked up at him. Her heart was beating so loudly, she was sure he must be able to hear it and her cheeks were burning.

He leaned down and Maris felt his hand on her breast. *Oh Force.*

She looked up at him. „Thrawn..."

Maris swallowed when the cool, wet brush came into contact with her delicate skin and trembled whenever she felt his hand on her breast, gently touching an erected nipple. The nearness of his body overwhelmed her and Maris felt the heat slowly, gradually building up between her legs. *Had he any idea what he was doing to her?*

Maris looked at him, searching for an answer. But he was only concentrating on the writing. Well, even with all their similarities, it had been childish to assume that their species' similarities went that far and that someone like him was interested in someone like her. Maris closed her eyes.

Finally, he put the ink and the brush aside.

"Finished."

Maris released her breath and looked down at herself, relieved that she hadn't moaned out in pleasure under his touch. She looked like a real piece of art with her chest, stomach and arms covered in an artistic mosaic of words, skilfully interwoven.

„Looks like you are more than an admirer of art." Thrawn shook his head. "No."

„But this is beautiful." She looked down at her stomach once more. „Agreed." He said quietly, while carefully cupping her face, slowly bringing himself down on her, lips touching. Maris felt herself melting beneath his touch, wrapping her arms and legs around him, one hand running through his dark hair. This was heaven. Could this be real? Her body was slowly gliding against him and when she opened her mouth to gasp, she could feel him slipping his tongue inside. Oh Force. Chiss did it the same way!

THE END.


End file.
